Published: Friday, July 25, 2014 at 4:30 a.m.

Last Modified: Thursday, July 24, 2014 at 2:57 p.m.

Alex Nsengimana was just 5 years old when genocide broke out in Rwanda in 1994. As a member of the Tutsi tribe, under attack by the Hutus, his prospects for survival were slim. In just three months, 1 million people were murdered in Rwanda.

After narrowly escaping death and being sent to an orphanage, Nsengimana received a gift from Operation Christmas child that changed his life and helped bring healing into his life.

Today, he serves as a national spokesperson for the organization. He shared his story in Western North Carolina on Wednesday night at First Presbyterian Church in Hendersonville.

People from as far as Weaverville and Old Fort came to hear his story as they prepare to rally support for this year's program. National Collection Week for the shoeboxes filled with school supplies, small toys, candies and personal items is Nov. 17-24.

The boxes are prepared for overseas shipment at eight major processing centers across the United States, from Boone to Orange County, Calif. Samaritan's Purse, the organization leading Operation Christmas Child, and its partners will deliver the gifts to children in more than 100 countries on six continents.

More than 500,000 volunteers worldwide — more than 100,000 in the United States — are involved in collecting, shipping and distributing shoebox gifts.

Nsengimana told the audience his mother had AIDS at the time of his birth, but he was lucky and did not contract the disease. He never knew his father. A year before the genocide began, his mother died from HIV and at age 4, he was sent to live with his grandmother and two uncles, along with his brother and sister.

On April 6, 1994, the presidents of Rwanda and Burundi were killed in a plane crash near the Rwandan capital, Kigali. The next day, like any other day, Nsengimana was going to go gardening with his grandmother, but roadblocks had been set up by the militia overnight all around his town, so they returned home.

The Hutus had just begun their campaign against the Tutsis, with the goal of killing every last Tutsi. Men appeared at his house the same day, throwing rocks at the house and demanding everyone come out and lay on the ground. Not long after, the children were sent back inside.

"So we went back and that's when they took my grandmother's life," Nsengimana said. "My brother and sister and I were in tears wondering what's going on — we were just so confused, but they came and we thought they were going to take our lives, too."

Instead of killing the children and Nsengimana's uncles, the Hutus stole all of the food from their home and left.

A week later, 100 men came back to Nsengimana's house looking for his uncle, who was hiding under the bed pulling himself up by the springs in the mattress so he could not be found, Nsengimana said. The men left, but word got back to them that his uncle was hiding and they returned.

"They were about to destroy the house when he said, 'please don't destroy the house,' and those are the last words he says, 'please do not destroy the house, my kids need a place to live,'" Nsengimana recalled.

During the day, his other uncle would leave without saying where he was going and Nsengimana learned he had been bribing the Hutus to keep him and his siblings alive. When he ran out of money, he told the children to flee for their lives.

Bombs were going off all around the children as they fled to an aunt's home, Nsengimana said.

At his aunt's home, he again narrowly escaped death when a militia man entered the home, but his bullets fell out of the man's guns all over the floor just before he could open fire.

Nsengimana ran through fields away from the Hutus. As he was running he said he recalled hearing a strange sound and just as he heard it, he slipped on a cow pie and a bullet flew over where he had just been standing.

Nsengimana made it safely to a camp, but was sent back to his aunt's home by officials at the camp to make sure his home was still there. That night he ate dinner with his neighbors and a relative.

"That night we came and slept back at the house, me and my relative, and she told me later in 2008 that that night I cried and cried and I wanted to go use the bathroom outside and she wanted to know why I wanted to go to the bathroom outside," Nsengimana said. "She gave up after 15 minutes of me crying; she took me to the bathroom outside."

The moment Nsengimana and his relative got to the bathroom, tneighbors burst into their home in an attempt to kill them to finish off the family.

"They thought we had been the only two people left in that family," Nsengimana said. "The next day we went back to the camp and stayed for another two weeks" before it was safe to return to his aunt's home.

His aunt's husband died not long after the war between the Hutus and the Tutsis. In the spring of 1995, his aunt told Nsengimana she thought it was best for him, his brother and sister to go live at the orphanage across the street from their home where the children could be cared for.

Three months later, he received word his aunt had died. Nsengimana said he became angry and did not understand. He struggled to understand the pain in his life and why he had been spared from death.

Living with 250 other children, Nsengimana said it was hard to sleep at night since many of the children would wake up from nightmares of their lives before coming to the orphanage.

"Then there was one day that really brought us a large amount of joy," Nsengimana said. "They said OK, you need to go ahead and line up, you are going to get a gift that came from America."

Nsengimana said it seemed too good to be true to get a gift from America. Shoeboxes were handed out to each child, but they were told to wait to open their boxes, and Nsengimana said it seemed like an eternity.

"They wanted us to experience that moment together and when we got to open that gift and receive all of the school supplies, the hygiene items — I am trying to paint that picture because it's probably the most beautiful picture — all of use holding this box, 250 boys and girls opening an Operation Christmas Child shoebox and screaming from excitement," Nsengimana said.

The box changed him, he said, it showed him the power of Christ's love.

"God was planting the seeds of love in my life," he added.

The two items Nsengimana said he remembers most from that first box were a folding brush and hair pic that had carried in his pocket every day for the next three years. The others, he recalled, baffled him at first.

"But my favorite item of all the things in my box was red; it was white. I didn't know what it was," Nsengimana said. "I didn't know how it tasted. I didn't even know if it was edible, but I bit it with the plastic on it. For those of you who haven't figured out what it is. It was my first time eating a candy cane."

Alex was selected to join the African Children's Choir and traveled to Uganda to train and began touring in the U.S. He moved to Minnesota at age 15 and went to college for ministry.

Nsengimana plans to return to Rwanda and open a Christian church, but says for now he's letting the Lord guide him on his journey.

For more information on Operation Christmas Child, call 704-583-1463 or visit www.samaritanspurse.org/occ.

<p>Alex Nsengimana was just 5 years old when genocide broke out in Rwanda in 1994. As a member of the Tutsi tribe, under attack by the Hutus, his prospects for survival were slim. In just three months, 1 million people were murdered in Rwanda. </p><p>After narrowly escaping death and being sent to an orphanage, Nsengimana received a gift from Operation Christmas child that changed his life and helped bring healing into his life. </p><p>Today, he serves as a national spokesperson for the organization. He shared his story in Western North Carolina on Wednesday night at First Presbyterian Church in Hendersonville.</p><p>People from as far as Weaverville and Old Fort came to hear his story as they prepare to rally support for this year's program. National Collection Week for the shoeboxes filled with school supplies, small toys, candies and personal items is Nov. 17-24.</p><p>The boxes are prepared for overseas shipment at eight major processing centers across the United States, from Boone to Orange County, Calif. Samaritan's Purse, the organization leading Operation Christmas Child, and its partners will deliver the gifts to children in more than 100 countries on six continents.</p><p>More than 500,000 volunteers worldwide — more than 100,000 in the United States — are involved in collecting, shipping and distributing shoebox gifts.</p><p>Nsengimana told the audience his mother had AIDS at the time of his birth, but he was lucky and did not contract the disease. He never knew his father. A year before the genocide began, his mother died from HIV and at age 4, he was sent to live with his grandmother and two uncles, along with his brother and sister. </p><p>On April 6, 1994, the presidents of Rwanda and Burundi were killed in a plane crash near the Rwandan capital, Kigali. The next day, like any other day, Nsengimana was going to go gardening with his grandmother, but roadblocks had been set up by the militia overnight all around his town, so they returned home.</p><p>The Hutus had just begun their campaign against the Tutsis, with the goal of killing every last Tutsi. Men appeared at his house the same day, throwing rocks at the house and demanding everyone come out and lay on the ground. Not long after, the children were sent back inside. </p><p>"So we went back and that's when they took my grandmother's life," Nsengimana said. "My brother and sister and I were in tears wondering what's going on — we were just so confused, but they came and we thought they were going to take our lives, too."</p><p>Instead of killing the children and Nsengimana's uncles, the Hutus stole all of the food from their home and left. </p><p>A week later, 100 men came back to Nsengimana's house looking for his uncle, who was hiding under the bed pulling himself up by the springs in the mattress so he could not be found, Nsengimana said. The men left, but word got back to them that his uncle was hiding and they returned. </p><p>"They were about to destroy the house when he said, 'please don't destroy the house,' and those are the last words he says, 'please do not destroy the house, my kids need a place to live,'" Nsengimana recalled. </p><p>During the day, his other uncle would leave without saying where he was going and Nsengimana learned he had been bribing the Hutus to keep him and his siblings alive. When he ran out of money, he told the children to flee for their lives. </p><p>Bombs were going off all around the children as they fled to an aunt's home, Nsengimana said. </p><p>At his aunt's home, he again narrowly escaped death when a militia man entered the home, but his bullets fell out of the man's guns all over the floor just before he could open fire. </p><p>Nsengimana ran through fields away from the Hutus. As he was running he said he recalled hearing a strange sound and just as he heard it, he slipped on a cow pie and a bullet flew over where he had just been standing. </p><p>Nsengimana made it safely to a camp, but was sent back to his aunt's home by officials at the camp to make sure his home was still there. That night he ate dinner with his neighbors and a relative. </p><p>"That night we came and slept back at the house, me and my relative, and she told me later in 2008 that that night I cried and cried and I wanted to go use the bathroom outside and she wanted to know why I wanted to go to the bathroom outside," Nsengimana said. "She gave up after 15 minutes of me crying; she took me to the bathroom outside."</p><p>The moment Nsengimana and his relative got to the bathroom, tneighbors burst into their home in an attempt to kill them to finish off the family.</p><p>"They thought we had been the only two people left in that family," Nsengimana said. "The next day we went back to the camp and stayed for another two weeks" before it was safe to return to his aunt's home. </p><p>His aunt's husband died not long after the war between the Hutus and the Tutsis. In the spring of 1995, his aunt told Nsengimana she thought it was best for him, his brother and sister to go live at the orphanage across the street from their home where the children could be cared for. </p><p>Three months later, he received word his aunt had died. Nsengimana said he became angry and did not understand. He struggled to understand the pain in his life and why he had been spared from death. </p><p>Living with 250 other children, Nsengimana said it was hard to sleep at night since many of the children would wake up from nightmares of their lives before coming to the orphanage. </p><p>"Then there was one day that really brought us a large amount of joy," Nsengimana said. "They said OK, you need to go ahead and line up, you are going to get a gift that came from America."</p><p>Nsengimana said it seemed too good to be true to get a gift from America. Shoeboxes were handed out to each child, but they were told to wait to open their boxes, and Nsengimana said it seemed like an eternity. </p><p>"They wanted us to experience that moment together and when we got to open that gift and receive all of the school supplies, the hygiene items — I am trying to paint that picture because it's probably the most beautiful picture — all of use holding this box, 250 boys and girls opening an Operation Christmas Child shoebox and screaming from excitement," Nsengimana said. </p><p>The box changed him, he said, it showed him the power of Christ's love. </p><p>"God was planting the seeds of love in my life," he added. </p><p>The two items Nsengimana said he remembers most from that first box were a folding brush and hair pic that had carried in his pocket every day for the next three years. The others, he recalled, baffled him at first. </p><p>"But my favorite item of all the things in my box was red; it was white. I didn't know what it was," Nsengimana said. "I didn't know how it tasted. I didn't even know if it was edible, but I bit it with the plastic on it. For those of you who haven't figured out what it is. It was my first time eating a candy cane."</p><p>Alex was selected to join the African Children's Choir and traveled to Uganda to train and began touring in the U.S. He moved to Minnesota at age 15 and went to college for ministry. </p><p>Nsengimana plans to return to Rwanda and open a Christian church, but says for now he's letting the Lord guide him on his journey. </p><p>For more information on Operation Christmas Child, call 704-583-1463 or visit www.samaritanspurse.org/occ.</p><p>___</p><p>Reach Bindewald at renee.bindewald@blueridgenow.com or 828-694-7890.</p>